


As Two Become One

by Domzanic



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt, Hurt Simon Lewis, Kinda Slow Build, M/M, Self-Esteem Issues, Self-Harm
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-02
Updated: 2018-11-02
Packaged: 2019-08-14 16:15:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,033
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16495985
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Domzanic/pseuds/Domzanic
Summary: Simon Lewis has a dark past. He's done something that haunts him everyday. How shall he ever make up for it? He can't seem to find the answer before his best friend's father is after him. But what makes him so special? Can his best friend, his mentor and the man that he loves so very much figure it out before Valentine decimates the entire Downworld?(I'm so sorry, this is a horrible summary.)





	As Two Become One

# Chapter 1

#  The first thing he felt was the cold. In the heat of battle, adrenaline pumping through his veins, he couldn’t feel the icy caress. But as the Seraph Blade pierced his skin, and as the last of his adrenaline ebbed and faded, he felt the cold air engulf him. Next, he felt the pain. He felt the Seraph Blade tear through his paper flesh. He felt his insides being ripped apart, the Seraph Blade stained crimson. It burnt. His life be damned, it burnt so much. He swore he could feel his flesh sizzling. The pain was so excruciating that he was forced to his knees, oblivious of the battle that still raged around him. Oblivious of the Shadowhunter that ripped his blade out of the wound that burnt. Oblivious of the arrow that pierced through that very same Shadowhunter’s knee, and the blast of magic that raged around the Shadowhunter, completely enveloping him. His vision darkened and his mind clouded. He put his hand against the wound, but stopped when he felt warm liquid. As he drew back his hands, his unfocused vision made out red liquid. Blood? He felt someone hugging him, muffled murmurs reaching his ears. With the last of his strength, he looked up, into the face of a tall, handsome, well-built man with dark hair and hazel eyes. This man wore a worried expression, urgently pouring out indecipherable words. His strong arms found their way around the wounded man; his big, rough hands quickly becoming coated with blood. He leaned his comrade back, taking his full weight, all the while trying to cover up his wound with his hand. Despite his best attempts, however, his comrade was still losing a lot of blood. The burning sensation had spread throughout the wounded man’s body. With every breath, the burn seemed to creep it’s way up his throat. His body was heavy; he could barely lift a finger, let alone try to fight the enemy. His friends! He needed to protect his friends. But giving in to the sea of darkness was so much easier. After all, what could he do that would sway the battle to his party’s favor? He was but a mundane. A weak, irrelevant mundane that knew the words to Star Wars’s ‘Yub Nub’ but could not even throw a punch. He was more of a distraction, anyway, so it wouldn’t hurt if he could lie down for a few minutes. Would it? He didn’t have any time to contemplate it, as Simon Lewis collapsed into the arms of Alec Lightwood. ——————————————————————————————————————————— Earlier That Day “No!” Simon yelled, waking with a start. He was sweating and breathing heavily. Realising that he had The Nightmare again, he gulped, panic and fear bubbling and rising, threatening to overflow. The grief and regret of what he had done that day slammed into him, sucking the breath from his lungs. Tears ran down his cheeks, as his hands started to violently shake. The events of that day intertwined itself in Simon’s mind, and he had to clench his fists to keep from completely screaming out in pain; pain that did not stem from a physical wound. He lay there for some time, shaking, crying and wishing he were dead, and after a while, his knuckles had turned white and his entire body convulsed. He wasn't sure how much time had passed before he stopped crying and his breath didn't hitch. His face was hot and he had a headache. After a few more moments, the 18-year old sat up. He instinctively reached to his right, his hand finding his glasses on his bedside table. Putting his glasses on, Simon got up from his bed. He was completely clothed; wearing a grey long sleeve, black sweatpants and blue socks. One of the things Simon hated about himself was his body. He was lean, fairly well-built and attractive. He wasn’t bulging with muscles, no, but he wasn’t lacking any, either. However, Simon didn’t see it that way, instead comparing himself to the people he knew, concluding that he was small, skinny and unattractive. Simon went to his bathroom. Once inside, he closed the door. It was strange, but the closed door provided him with a small sense of security. He moved to the cabinet above his basin and opened it, not even needing to look to locate the razor. His right hand closed around the razor, carefully extracting it. He turned it over, examining it, remembering how cold it had been, the first time he had used it. Simon rolled up his left sleeve, exposing a sea of injuries that reached all the way just below his wrist, all self-inflicted. Some of them were short, and some were long; some were faded, while others were red and angry, but they all were there; all of his proof. Simon closed the cabinet, staring at his reflection in the mirror. A flushed face with dark brown, ruffled hair, brown eyes, glasses, and a prominent jawline stared back at him. His eyes were red and his breathing was still heavy. He slowly plastered a smile on his face, bringing to life his facade. The smile never reached his eyes, and his laugh was never full, but it did the job. He had perfected this art, moulding and shaping his facade until it fooled everyone. Sometimes even himself. He glanced at his exposed left arm, placing the razor above his maze of proof. He breathed in softly, whispering to himself that he deserved this, that he deserved worse. Then, with trembling hands and a bleeding heart, he brought down the razor, and continued on with this routine he had for the past six years. ——————————————————————————————————————————— A while later, Simon found himself standing behind a huge, black door. He stood there for a few moments, conflicted, as he always was whenever he was here. “Don’t just stand there, Jacques,” came a sweet, velvet voice, through the huge, black door. “Let yourself in.” With his thoughts interrupted, Simon pushed open the door, and was greeted by an eloquence that he still wasn’t used to. Everything - from the décor, to the furniture, to the paint on the walls — was eccentric. It was almost as if the fashion sense of many different generations were combined to create what was in front of Simon. But then again, what did Simon expect. After all, he stood in the loft of Magnus Bane. Magnus stood in the kitchen. An apron was tied around his neck and there was smoke in the air. “What are you doing, mentor?” Simon asked, suddenly curious as to why there would ever be smoke in Magnus’s loft. Magnus grinned. “Just trying to make muffins. Not everything in life is easy, but I, Magnus Bane, shall not give up!” Magnus said as he tossed twelve objects that could quite easily resemble charcoal into the trash. Simon took a seat at the bar, which was situated in front of the kitchen. “Why don’t you just use your magic?” “Just because I have magic, my eager student, it does not mean that I have to do everything with magic.” Magnus flicked his wrist, and a cup of tea appeared in front of Simon. I’ll never understand how he's able to read my mind like that, thought Simon, but instead he chuckled and raised an eyebrow at Magnus. “Well,… mostly everything,” Magnus smiled innocently. Simon took a sip of his tea, dismissing Magnus’s attempt at innocence, before replying, “That’s all good and well, but you we both know that you wouldn’t just wake up one morning and decide to physically make anything, let alone muffins. Contrary to popular belief, you don’t even have a sweet tooth.” “Which means,” Simon continued, “that these muffins must be for someone special, if you’re not using magic to make them.” Simon closed his eyes, reveling in the way the tea seemed to soothe his soul. “I’m pretty sure it’s for-" “All right, all right,” Magnus interrupted him. “You’re smart, now your life’s work is complete.” Magnus rolled his eyes. “The truth is… It’s for Alexander.” Simon felt his heart twist, and he had to resist frowning. He kept his eyes closed and waited for Magnus to continue. Magnus sighed, put his apron down, and took a seat next to Simon. “You see, Jacques,” Magnus started, placing one hand over his heart and the other over Simon’s, a gesture that meant that you are in the heart of Magnus Bane. The only time Simon had seen it was when Ragnor Fell had come over, and the two Warlocks were in a heated discussion, with a potion bottle between them, the green liquid bubbling. It’s Magnus’s way of letting you know that you are special to him, in not so many words. “Alexander has given me life again,” continued Magnus. “He unlocked something in me that… That I thought would forever stay locked.” Magnus waited a few moments to let it all sink in, before continuing; slower, softer, sadder, “If you want me to end it I will. I know that you knew him first, so I will respect your decision.” But I don’t want to stop seeing him, Magnus pleaded mentally. Simon finally opened his eyes, and looked at Magnus. Magnus’s eyes mirrored his own; brown orbs, pleading. Simon plastered a grin on his face. “Mentor, who you see is your business, but it’s pretty evident you feel deeply for Alec,” said Simon, motioning to the trash can. At this, Magnus laughed nervously, mostly from relief. “Besides,” Simon continued, heart slowly breaking, “I think you and Alec would be good for each other.” Magnus gazed at the trash can, and chuckled darkly. “What are you trying to say, Jacques? You know what, don’t answer that. Your punishment is re-shelving my library.” “That’s not really a — ” “Oh, and you'll be glad to know that you only need to re-shelve the Magical Theories section.” Simon grimaced. All of the books in the Magical Theories section were written in languages that gave Simon a headache when translating them. Good going Simon, you put yourself in this situation. ——————————————————————————————————————————— Some hours later, Simon picked up the last book, and placed ‘How to enact Murphy’s Law’ on the shelf. As he placed the book, he let out a sigh of relief. “I’m finally done,” he murmured to himself. “And at a good time, too,” said Magnus, suddenly appearing in front of the entrance to the library. He wore a dark purple long-sleeved shirt, with a navy blue waistcoat, navy blue trousers and smart, black shoes. He also had a purple scarf, clearly accentuating his shirt. “Dearest Alexander requires our help.” At this, Simon’s eyebrows shot up. “Our?” “Yes. I do believe I annunciate my words, and I do not stutter. Our. Us. You and I.” Simon stuffed his hands in his jacket pockets, as his heart made tiny leaps. “Why would he want me there?” “Because,” said Magnus, walking toward Simon, “you’re his friend.” Magnus stopped in front of Simon. “Granted,” he continued, “excluding me, you’re his only friend, you still mean a lot to him.” “I understand that, but why does he want me to go on a mission with you two?” The edge of Magnus’s lips curved slightly. I always knew you were intelligent, Simon Lewis, but sometimes you amaze even me. Instead, Magnus played ignorant, “I never said it was a mission.” “Oh please, mentor, we both know Alec isn’t one for social gatherings. If he’s asking for the High Warlock of Brooklyn and his apprentice, then it means his siblings aren’t going to be with him, and he only ever goes out of the Institute without his siblings if he’s on a mission, which, also, is the only time we ever get to see him,” Simon concluded. Magnus rolled his eyes and patted Simon on the shoulder. “You’re so dramatic, Jacques. Sure, you can’t fight, but maybe that’s a good thing. It emphasizes your purity. When man is forced to draw the blood of one of his own… It shatters his mind and corrupts his soul.” Simon looked away, still unsure if it was a good thing that he was defenseless. “Except,” Magnus chirped, “our lovely Alexander isn’t asking for the High Warlock of Brooklyn and his apprentice. He’s asking for his only two friends.” When Simon’s expression hadn’t changed, Magnus laughed and patted Simon on the back. “No need to look so glum, Jacques. Loosen up a little. Completely contradicting the immortality that comes along with being a warlock, life is too short not to enjoy it.” Magnus laughed again. Simon sighed and smiled. “I forgot who I’m in the presence of, oh High Warlock of Brooklyn.” Simon bowed deeply, mocking Magnus. “In all of your glory, you have succeeded in lifting my mood. Rejoice, immortal being. Rejoice. Your-” “You’re begging to clean out the cat’s litter.” That one sentence made Simon immediately stop, straighten, place his hands behind his head and laugh. For those few seconds, when Magnus joined in on the laughter and when everything seemed okay, Simon didn’t feel the weight of his heavy burden on his shoulders. He didn’t feel the need to put up a mask, to lose himself in yet another facade. He felt… okay. And it was all thanks to Magnus Bane. After a few moments, the laughter in the room simmered down, and Simon looked Magnus in the eye. He had a slight smile on his face, but as he looked at Magnus it slowly faded. “Magnus… I…” Simon’s voice was suddenly shaking. Magnus rested his hand on Simon’s shoulder and their eyes locked. I know, Simon. I know. Simon gained control of his voice, and continued, “I just wanted to thank you. I don’t know where I would be without you. What I would be without you. I just want you to know that I’m so grateful that you took me on as your apprentice, all those years ago. If I could go back, I wouldn’t change a thing.” Magnus’s eyes watered. “Simon, you are my loyal apprentice. Having me - ME - teach you must be difficult, but you’ve never let that sway you before. You impress me each and every day, and you just grow. Not only have you been the apprentice every warlock desires, you’ve also snuck your way into my heart. I know that our friendship will last until you’ve taken your last breath, and even after, still.” It was strange, hearing this from Magnus. Not that Simon doubted if he spoke the truth, but that Magnus spoke the truth. In front of others, Magnus was reluctant to bare his heart, but not with Simon. Or Alec. Magnus sniffled and laughed. Spinning around and heading out of the library, he laughed. “Come then, Jacques. If we stand here professing our love all day, dearest Alexander would never forgive us for making him wait,” Magnus teased, earning a grunt and an eye-roll from Simon. —————————————————————————————————————————— It was a quiet night, and Simon found himself walking next to Alec, who was next to Magnus. After leaving Magnus’s loft, Simon had insisted on walking to the New York Institute, instead of portaling close to it. After a lot of reluctance from Magnus, the pair found themselves walking to where they were going to meet up with Alec. Once they found Alec, they accompanied him on his patrol mission, which is where Simon now was. Simon tugged on his jacket, frowning when he realised that he should be cold. Out of the corner of his eye, he glanced at Magnus, not even seeing him moving his fingers, as he usually did when he was using magic. Magnus, of coursed, noticed Simon’s eyes on him, and gave him a knowing grin. “So, Alec, why the patrol? If The Troublesome Trio is on patrol, then there must be something going on.” Alec rolled his eyes. “There’s been rumors of demon sightings, and for the last time, Simon, stop calling Jace, Izzy and I The Troublesome Trio.” There wasn't any anger in Alec’s voice. His usual cold attitude towards everyone seemed to disappear whenever he spoke to Magnus or Simon. “But, you know, it’s troublesome for the demons that cross paths with you three.” Magnus jumped in. “Oh Simon, sometimes you’re funny, but other times you’re just… not.” “What am I now?” “The latter, ” Alec and Magnus said in unison. “You two are just too infatuated right now, ” Simon scowled. Alec seemed to choke, trip and stutter something incoherent all at the same time, whereas Magnus just laughed. They walked on in silence, passing empty cars, numerous stray dogs barking ferociously and even a deserted bar. Eventually Magnus spoke up. “Alexander, would you care to go on a date with me? Maybe a drink?” Alec gazed at Simon before answering, “I’d like that, Magnus.” Simon could hear the smile in his voice, and felt a pang of… jealousy? Simon frowned. Again? What is happening to me? What is this? Longing? For Alec? It can’t be. I don’t… I don’t feel for him like that. He’s my friend. Simon repeated it like it was a chant. Alec is my friend. Alec is my — But Simon stopped his mental rambling, as he realised just how eerily quiet everything was. Magnus and Alec were in the middle of a conversation, when Simon stopped and took in their surroundings. They were in a park, with not a soul in sight. “We’re out in the open,” Simon muttered. Alec was suddenly next to Simon. “What’s wrong, Simon?” Simon looked at Alec, and immediately Alec’s face hardened. Magnus touched Simon on the back. “What is it, Jacques?” “Have either of you noticed that since Alec started his patrol, we haven't seen anyone? From the human world or the Shadow World. The city should be busy tonight, considering that it’s Saturday.” Magnus’s eyes flashed yellow, with a slit in the middle. “What are you saying?” “I don’t know. We haven’t seen anything living except…” Simon’s voice trailed off and he cursed. “Except what, Jacques?” “Except dogs. Dogs that were barking.” Simon groaned. “And? What’s wrong with dogs barking?” Alec’s eyes were calculating. He was trying to answer his own question. Magnus answered. “They shouldn’t have been barking if there wasn’t anyone around.” Alec tilted his head to the side. “That’s strange. Now that I’m focused, I'm picking up a dripping noise.” Alec closed his eyes in concentration, then frowned. “A lot of dripping, actually. Coming from… everywhere.” He opened his eyes in alarm, looking at Simon for answers. “Alec, dogs can sense demons.” —————————————————————————————————————————— As soon as the words left Simon’s mouth, Alec’s bow was materialising and Magnus’s eyes were glowing yellow. They moved around until Simon was in between them. Alec readied an arrow, and lightning coiled around Magnus’s fingertips. Simon’s heartbeat picked up. He spun around, looking for the demons. Normally, demons wouldn’t be a problem for Alec and Magnus, but considering that everyone in such a big radius was either missing or dead, they had to be up against a pretty powerful demon. Simon then noticed Alec’s head cocked to the side, his Enhanced Hearing rune coming in handy once more. After what seemed like an eternity, Alec huffed. “I can’t hear anything other than those damn dogs!” Simon placed a hand on Alec’s shoulder in an attempt to calm him down. Meanwhile, Magnus closed his eyes, but immediately flung them open. “There’s a portal opening right now.” Magnus spun around and pointed toward a jungle gym. Just as Magnus said, a few seconds later, a portal opened, the hum of magic exuding all around them. Out stepped five Raveners and three Shadowhunters. Behind them, the portal closed. Alec and Magnus were immediately in front of Simon. In an instant, Alec had an arrow aimed at the Shadowhunter that stepped forward. Magnus was already chanting in Chthonian, pure magic writhing around Magnus. One Shadowhunter stepped forward, obviously the leader. He was big, with long, dark brown hair that reached his shoulders. He spoke in a rough voice. “If all three of you come with us, we will not harm any of you.” Magnus laughed, almost demonically. “You want the Acting Head of the New York Institute, the High Warlock of Brooklyn and his apprentice to negotiate with five shapeshifters and three Rogue Shadowhunters. Don’t make me laugh,” Magnus spat, each word laced with venom. The Raveners hissed, but quieted down when the Rogue Shadowhunter motioned toward them. He took another step forward. “We do not wish to fight, but we will if we need to.” As if on cue, the other Shadowhunters drew their Seraph Blades and the Raveners hissed again. “What do you want with the mundane? There’s no reason for Valentine to need him.” Alec’s voice was calm and steady, slowing Simon’s pounding heartbeat a little. This made the Shadowhunter stop mid-step. “No one mentioned Valentine.” “Who else would have demons, Shadowhunters, Warlocks and whatever else he’s hiding.” This time, it was Magnus. “Well then,” the Shadowhunter slowly drew two Seraph Blades before continuing, “it looks as though we have no choice but to take you all by force. We wouldn’t want to disappoint Him.” At this, the Raveners charged, with the three Shadowhunters not far behind. “Simon, stay back!” Magnus commanded. Alec had already let loose three arrows when Magnus sent lightning sprawling across the park. Simon took a step back as his friends clashed with the enemy. He didn’t hear the twig that snapped behind him before an arm wrapped around his throat. Instantly, panic overwhelmed Simon, and he flailed, trying his hardest to break out of his attacker’s grip. He shouted, kicked and even tried to flip the Shadowhunter over his back, just like Alec had taught him. Of course, none of these things worked. All reason and logic left Simon’s mind, and he was now full-on screaming. The grip on his throat was so tight, he was struggling to breathe. Suddenly, he realised that he could breathe. He surged forward, coughing and gasping for air, adrenaline flowing through him. He looked back, and saw the Shadowhunter’s face was charred. He turned back to the battle, in time to see Magnus turning away from him. He quickly realised that they were winning. Three Raveners and one Shadowhunter were already down. The remaining Shadowhunters and Raveners pressed on, attacking Magnus and Alec relentlessly. They were pretty good. The Shadowhunters would use their speed to create openings, and the Raveners would follow through, using their brute strength to overcome Alec and Magnus. However, Alec and Magnus protected each other, magic and angelic power creating the ultimate defense. Simon marveled at his friends. Magnus had the more personal approach, using his magic to blast his opponents, whereas Alec was more calculated, using super-fast attacks to disorient his enemies, before delivering the killing blow. Slowly, Rogue Shadowhunters and Raveners fell, until only the lead Rogue Shadowhunter remained. He twirled his twin swords, worry etched onto his forehead. Eventually, Magnus lost his patience and threw magic at the Shadowhunter’s leg, causing him to stumble. Alec seized his chance and lunged, his Seraph Blade thrusting forward, intending to kill. However, another Seraph Blade is what Alec’s blade met, instead, and Simon gasped. He realised that this Rogue Shadowhunter was faster than Alec. He heard moaning, and was forced to take his eyes off of the intense battle in front of him. As Simon spun around, he froze. In front of him stood the Shadowhunter with the charred face, his flesh already multiplying and covering his burnt face. Simon took a step back. “Shadowhunters can’t heal that fast.” His voice was shaky. The Shadowhunter ignored him. “He asked for you specifically, but I’m sure once I tell Him you lunged into my blade, he’ll forgive me.” It was then that Simon noticed the Seraph Blade in the Shadowhunter’s hand. Simon turned to run, but couldn’t even take one step, as a blade sliced through him. ——————————————————————————————————————————— The last thing Simon remembered was Alec’s arms around him. The way his heart backflipped at Alec’s touch almost made him forget about his gaping wound. Almost.


End file.
